She was in a red satin sleeveless bodycon dress. I was dumbstruck by the sight of her milky cleavage.“You got 15 minutes, hurry up and get ready. We...��re going to a hotel,” she said.“What’s the occasion?” I asked.“Our first date, let’s see how things go. I’ll be in the living room. Don’t make me wait,” she said.“Of course, I won’t,” I said.“Don’t get too excited. I wouldn’t be so sure about having sex tonight,” mom said.“Okay. Let’s see. Still, the date is a step towards something,” I said.I took. More and more frequently I found myself alone in our penthouse in Cambridge, resentful of what at the time I thought was her obsessive career. When she was at home, she was always exhausted. She never refused me sex, but it was no better than necrophilia, and gradually I stopped bothering. I deeply regretted selling the house in Tiburon because I would have surely gone there. I doubt very much that separation would have shocked her into change, and divorce would have inevitably followed. I find. More

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